


five hundred years

by transperalta



Series: moreid ramblings [5]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Aphasia, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Spencer Reid, M/M, Moreid, Spencer dies, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Whump, anthrax - Freeform, im so sorry for this, this is so sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28765194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transperalta/pseuds/transperalta
Summary: when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was five hundred years in the making.it might be the only thing spencer can remember.
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid
Series: moreid ramblings [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069088
Comments: 12
Kudos: 73





	five hundred years

**Author's Note:**

> i am so sorry i don't know why i always kill one of them off. figured it was spencer's turn.  
> based on the anthrax episode, 4x24 'amplification'. what if spencer died?
> 
> as always, finished this past 4am, so it might not even be coherent. please do tell me if it's not.
> 
> enjoy!

contrary to popular belief, spencer reid is not smart.

to be fair, that statement depends on your definition of the word, but for the purposes of this story, let's say this: he is not 'having or showing a quick-witted intelligence'.

spencer reid knows every fact he takes in, and if you ask him for some obscure piece of information from a year before he was even born, he would be happy to respond.

what spencer makes up for with endless knowledge, he lacks in common sense. derek's favourite story to tell at parties is when he watched his best friend almost stick his entire hand into a pot of boiling water, because he 'just wanted to see if the pasta was done yet!'.

spencer reid is not smart, because when he ran into that mad scientist's lab, all common sense was clearly thrown out the window. well, what little of it he had, anyway.

because any logical person working an anthrax case would have been especially cautious around a suspect's workspace.

because he never even told his partner what he was doing until it was too late.

too late for him to get out, but not too late to save derek. to pull the glass door shut just before the older agent could intervene, effectively sealing himself into a death trap. at least, what he thought was a death trap. he couldn't be quite sure immediately, but he was intelligent enough to make his own deductions.

deductions, which were developed into theories, which were - unfortunately - developed into facts.

spencer reid sealed himself into a death trap.

it seemed like a good idea, at the time.

to him, anyway.

to derek morgan, his partner in not-crime, it was quite possibly the worst idea he'd ever had. worse than neglecting to tell the rest of his team that the fisher king had a huge fuck-off bomb, worse than attempting a magic trick on a psychotic killer - hell, even worse than running off into a cornfield only to get himself abducted by a dude with three personalities, one of which being a literal celestial being.

in fact, it seemed the kid had made a habit of impulsivity. and abandoning his partner to carry out these impulses.

derek wishes he didn't abandon spencer there.

at the time, he hadn't been too against the idea of watching him get naked and scrubbed down, but he was always one to respect wishes, and honestly, the kid looked like he wished he would be left alone.

instead, morgan was sent to check on the other victims, see if any of them talked. apparently, they could hardly stay conscious, and the aphasia had them talking nonsense in the rare times they were awake.

which was an issue, since it would have been a little helpful if they could speak coherently.

he persevered though (hotch would certainly be on his ass if he didn't) and did his best to communicate with them, and kept his patience when they failed to provide any useful information whatsoever, and updated the rest of the team on his absolute lack of findings.

you know, he was going to wait at the hospital until spencer got there.

that was, until his phone rang, exactly seven minutes before he was supposed to check in with the team again, and spencer's name flashed up on his screen. well actually, what really appeared was 'pretty boy ;)' accompanied by the custom ringtone reid had set up for himself - his very own acapella rendition of the star wars theme tune.

and spencer spoke.

and derek dropped the phone.

and then swiftly picked it up again, because it occurred to him that he had to keep listening, before he began running through the halls of the hospital to get to the parking lot as quickly as possible.

his phone bounced on the soft fabric of his car as he threw it into the passenger seat, falling onto the floor and obscuring the words coming from the speaker. which proved to be a problem, as spencer's voice had been the only thing keeping derek calm through the impending panic. 

it took four attempts to get the key into the car, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, metal scratching roughly against plastic, which would inevitably leave a mark. from the speaker of his phone, now sitting idly on the floor, he vaguely heard something about how it wasn't his fault. how spencer had gone into the lab himself, and how was derek to know that the kid was going to get anthrax poisoning? 

truthfully, morgan was hardly listening at this point. he finally started the car, almost forgetting to buckle his seatbelt - he only did it because he remembered a stakeout a while back, during which spencer noticed the man hadn't buckled up, and reached over to secure him. the feeling of reid's arm pressed against his abdomen was forever stained into his memory, which he wasn't going to complain about. 

before stepping on the gas, he picked up his phone, connecting the call to the speakers in his car and slipping his phone into his pocket. he could hardly see where he was driving, blind panic taking him over, only some great subconscious knowledge guiding him through the streets.

the trip to the hospital took eleven minutes. he was sure he could make it back in less than seven. 

only spencer's voice brought him out of his trance, a harsh cough sounding throughout the car before he began to speak.

"derek, i- this isn't what i wanted. you know that, right?"

wow, that hurt. to think that spencer reid, the most innocent, optimistic, bright boy in the bau, would think so lowly of himself, that he would worry about this? about derek morgan, the love of his life (although he hadn't told him yet, and would likely never get the chance to) would blame him for this?

"no, yeah, no- i- obviously, reid."

his tone was unintentionally rough, and, fearing the young agent might take it the wrong way - as he often did - derek corrected himself.

"that's not, i- that's not what i meant. i'm sorry, i just- yeah, reid. it's not your fault. please don't say that- listen, i'm on my way. you just stay put for me, okay pretty boy?"

he didn't mean for his voice to crack like that, on the endearing nickname he had given the younger agent all those years ago, but then again, he didn't mean for a lot of things to happen. he didn't mean to let spencer out of his sight, or leave him alone, or take so damn long to drive back to him. how quick does anthrax act, anyway? he would have asked reid, but then realised it was probably an altered strain. he pressed his foot down a little harder. 

for a minute, the only sound coming from either of the men was heavy breathing, one much more laboured than the other. as if he had to manually breathe in order to continue going through the motions.

"derek. i... you? always-"

a few heavy, laboured, manual breaths.

"always to me. know?"

derek vaguely remembered the victims in the hospital. he thought it would be longer before the aphasia set in. 

"yeah, kid. i know. i know."

really, he saw no point in lying to the man. they'd known each other too long, played too much poker, and besides - they're both profilers. they can tell when the other is lying. 

"actually, i don't know. but i'm gonna get there real soon, and you can explain it to me when you get better, alright? you hear me?"

spencer clearly did, although it was doubtful he would follow through. they both knew it was too late. one was just further along in the stages of grief.

"derek, no, i- lisp. lisp? lists. no!"

a sharp sound carried through the speakers - reid smacked the side of the desk he was currently leaned against, in some act of frustration. he was supposed to have an eidetic memory. why were the words so hard to find?

"listen. you... can't. i can't- listen? listen, derek."

a soft, desperate sob was all morgan heard from his car. if he wasn't already speeding, he certainly was now. the line went silent, save the occasional cries and deep, hungry breaths from the other side. they eventually calmed, with derek's reassurance that _"pretty boy i swear i'll be there soon, just please hang on for me, you're gonna be okay, i-"_ , and a more regular, consistent pattern soon came to the boy. 

"derek."

the man unclenched his fists a little. he hadn't realised, but his knuckles were pressed right up against his skin, flesh stretching and paling slightly against the bone. he hardly had it in him to reply, but forced a small _"yes?"_ out of his mouth. 

instead of a sentence, something morgan was not sure the other man could now form - coherent or not, he received his name once more.

"derek. derek, derek, derek."

like a mantra from spencer's side, his love's name falling hopelessly and carelessly off his tongue as if he wished to never let it leave him. as if he couldn't bear to say goodbye to the word, couldn't let it slip away. as if it would escape if he took his eyes off it for just a second too long. 

"spence- spencer. please, kid, you can't- not like this. this isn't- this isn't how we end."

the mantra kept on. 

he made it in five. 

and the mantra faded, as he pulled the car to a halt in the driveway, the bluetooth disconnecting just as he lifts his phone to his ear. 

"kid. i'm here, please. you're okay, you're gonna be okay, just- breathe? just breathe, please, that's all i-"

he has reached the glass door once again. 

from somewhere, he hears a clatter, as something hits against the concrete slabs. his hand is empty. 

when spencer was seven, he learned sign language. the school library had a book on it, and since he had nothing better to do, he picked it up. and he learnt. and now he knows.

when derek was seventeen, he learned sign language. his best friend lost her hearing, and he wanted to listen to music with her again, like old times - although that was impossible, he did the best he could. and he learnt. and now he knows.

on one side of the glass, spencer reid sits. with his back against a pristine white desk, legs splayed out in front of him, hospital-provided scrubs in place of his usual cardigan and scarf. 

on the other side, derek morgan stands. his feet planted firmly against the concrete, knees ready to buckle if put under even an ounce more pressure, hands situated next to his sides as they shook.

the younger agent raises his arms weakly, and derek has to fight back something close to a whimper as he observes just how much it takes out of spencer to perform such a simple action.

spencer is signing, even as his eyes close.

derek is watching, even as tears threaten to cloud his vision. 

spencer is dying.

spencer is dying.

spencer is dead.

derek is letting the tears cloud his vision as he crumples to the ground, and he wishes he has an eidetic memory just like his pretty boy, because then he would never forget what he saw. although, he thinks, it won't take an eidetic memory to remember. 

his unit chief isn't there. he isn't there, and then he is, and derek is in the back of a dark suv, and he can't hear anything. and he can see mouths moving, but he can't hear the words they let go. 

he is watching it in his head again, as if the moment never really ended.

spencer is signing.

_"soulmates. bound through space and time for five hundred years. forever, derek morgan."_

**Author's Note:**

> as always, kudos, comments, and general feedback are greatly appreciated, because i have zero idea what i'm doing :)


End file.
